


Annabelle's Revenge

by SaxonSpud



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Beating, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Identity Reveal, Love Triangles, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaxonSpud/pseuds/SaxonSpud
Summary: When the Van Der Linde Gang attack Colm O'Driscolls camp in the Grizzlies, to retrieve the plans for robbing the train. The lone rider that Arthur Morgan goes after and captures, is not a young boy, but none other than Colm O'Driscolls niece. The Daughter of his brother, who was killed by Dutch Van Der Linde.The problem is, she looks nothing like an O'Driscoll.





	1. Chapter 1

It was cold, real cold. The sort of cold that bites into you, right into your bones.

Jasmine, rubbed her gloved hand on her arm. Just to try and warm herself up a bit. It didn't work very well. Even though she was wearing a thick, heavy winter coat. The cold still got through. 

She'd complained, probably a bit too loudly. She'd got hit round the face for that.

Colm O'Driscoll, wasn't in the best of moods, and she, just happened to be, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Didn't matter to him that she was a girl. In fact the only girl. The only reason the others kept their hands off of her, was because she was Colm's niece. Not that it stopped him from hitting her, if she spoke out of turn, which she did, quite often. She just couldn't help herself.

Now she'd drawn the short straw, well, maybe it wasn't such a short straw. She had to ride over to six-point cabin, let the others know, that after they'd done the train job, Colm and the others would be joining them. Not such a short straw, 'cos it meant that she could get off this god-damn mountain, and out of the snow.

Jasmine pushed her horse on, it wasn't even late, but the dark clouds, made the mountain look as though it was evening, the heavy clouds, masking the sun. She shivered a little, and pushed on a bit harder. The snow was beginning to fall, the last thing she needed was to get caught out in another blizzard.

As she pushed her horse on, she heard the sound of hoofbeats behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, to see a lone rider. He was galloping towards her, not one of Colm's men either. She tried to push her horse on, but he was tired. Not so, the horse and rider behind her. She glanced around, once again, to see him, with a lasso in his hand. Shit! What the the hell.

"Not so fast," the man yelled.

Before she had a chance to react, she felt the rope tighten around her, dragging her off the back of her horse. Her horse, bolted, as she hit the ice, with a thud.

"Fuck," she yelled, under her breath.

The man, jumped of his horse, quickly spinning her, onto her stomach, and tying her wrists together, behind her back, the tying her ankles together.

"You're coming with me," he growled.

Jasmine struggled, but to now avail. "You bastard," she growled.

The man, picked her up, and threw her on the back of his horse. He then mounted and galloped along the snowy trail.

"What's your name, kid" he asked.

Jasmine grunted, as the movement of the horse, knocked some of the air, out of her lungs.

"Fuck off, you bastard!"

The man chuckled, "I ain't gonna lie, but this just ain't your day, is it!"

Jasmine groaned. "You ain't gonna get away with this, you bastard."

The man stopped chuckling. "You better shut your mouth, you little shit, or I am gonna shut it for ya."

Jasmine, tried to free her hands, but she figured, the man knew what he was doing. Her hands were bound tight.

As the horse galloped along, she felt every movement, as her chest, bounced on the back of the horse.

"Fuck," She groaned. "you're gonna be sorry"

The man glanced behind him, "are you tryin' to test me, is that it? Because I will break every bone in your body, now shut the fuck up."

Jasmine grunted, "bastard," she said, under her breath.

"I heard that, not one more god-damn word, am I clear?"

Jasmine grunted. There was no point wasting her breath.

After what seemed like an eternity, of bouncing around on the back of the horse. The horse started to slow down, and gradually was pulled to a halt.

The man dismounted, and hauled jasmine, off the back of the horse.

"Here we are, you sack of shit." he growled, as he walked towards a cabin.

"Found the little shit, did ya" She heard a man say, as he walked out of the cabin.

Jasmine was tossed to the ground, she grunted, as she hit the ice. She felt the ropes around he ankles being cut, as she was hauled into a standing position.

She looked at the face, of the man who came out of the cabin, a face she immediately recognised. Black hair, slicked back and a neat moustache. Brown eyes, stared at her. Her Uncle's arch nemesis, Dutch Van Der Linde.

Dutch laughed, "Its a girl!"

"What," the man who held her from behind, exclaimed. "Has Colm gone soft, he never has women in his gang."

Dutch grasped Jasmine jaw, and tilted her face roughly, so that he could get a better look.

Her raven black hair, gleamed in the light  from the lantern, that he held. Errant strands, laying on her cheeks. Her bright blue eyes, glared at Dutch Van Der Linde.

"Hello Jasmine," he said, smiling, "You've grown into a fine young woman," Dutch took a deep breath, "You look just like you're mother."

"And you're still as ugly as you ever were, maybe you should have killed me, when you killed my father." She spat the words out.

Dutch scowled. "Put her in the barn, and tie her up. If she makes too much noise, shut her up." He turned, and walked back into the cabin.

Arthur dragged Jasmine into the barn. He tied her arms to one of the main timber frames.

Jasmine looked at the man, blond hair, rough beard, blue eyes. "You must be Arthur Morgan, Dutch's right hand man."

Arthur Morgan glared at the girl. "Are you gonna be quiet, or do you want me to shut you up?"

Jasmine laughed, "You really have hit the big time, Arthur Morgan. Kidnapping defenceless g..."

She didn't finish the sentence, as a cloth, was shoved in her mouth and tied in place.

Arthur stood up straight, and stared at the girl, smiling. "That's better," he said.

Jasmine scowled, and glared at him.

He turned away, and walked out of the barn, chuckling to himself.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur walked into the Cabin, Dutch and Hosea were looking at some plans.

He walked over to the fire, rubbing his hands together, to try and get warm.

"We found John," he said, glancing across at Hosea. "He's been half eaten by wolves, but he'll survive."

"Thank you Arthur, I expect Abigail is pleased." Hosea replied.

"Not that you'd notice," Arthur scoffed.

Dutch laughed, "She loves to hate that boy."

"What you gonna a do about the O'Driscoll girl? Jasmine?" Arthur asked.

Hosea stared at Arthur, then at Dutch. "Jasmine is here?"

Dutch carried on examining the plans, on the table, "Arthur brought her in last night, she'll keep"

Hosea stood up, "Arthur, show me."

Hosea followed Arthur, out of the cabin, and across the camp, to the barn. As they entered, Arthur, pointed towards the far corner of the barn.

Hosea, walked towards the woman, who was tied to the timber frame.

He was slightly taken a back, when she raised her head, and stared at him, with her piercing blue eyes. He'd seen eyes like that before. They were exactly the same colour, as Dutch's lover, Annabelle.

Jasmine looked up, as she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't recognise the man, although the look on his face, made her think, that he possibly recognised her.

She glared at him, in the same way, she had glared at Arthur, the previous night. Spending the night, tied and gagged, hadn't reduced her anger, in any way. In fact, it had probably made her more angry. Coupled with the fact, that her cheek, was throbbing, from the hit, she had received from Colm. Being female, hadn't made him hit her any less hard.

Hosea, bent down and removed the gag, from Jasmine's mouth.

He looked at the bruise on her face. "Are you ok, Miss." He asked.

Jasmine, rolled her eyes, "what do you think, old man. I've been tied to a post, in the freezing cold, with a gag in my mouth. How would you feel?"

Hosea, tried to disguise a smile, "What happened to your face?" he asked, pointing to the bruise, which was starting to appear on her face.

"None of you're god-damn business, old man." she growled.

Hosea laughed "Jasmine O'Driscoll, you're still as feisty as you were when you were two years old."

Jasmine frowned, she didn't recognise the old man, "Do I know you old man?" She asked, trying to place his face.

Before, Hosea could answer, Arthur walked forwards and replaced the gag.

"This ain't the time for reunions, Dutch wants her kept in here, and kept quiet. He'll decide what to do with her"

"Arthur, you could at least give her some water!" Hosea exclaimed, not understanding, why they would treat a young woman this way.

Arthur sighed, "She's an O'Driscoll. If you ask me, she's lucky to be alive. She won't be getting anything, until Dutch says so."

Hosea followed, Arthur out of the barn, and glanced back at the woman. She may have the O'Driscoll name, and she may have come from an O'Driscoll camp, but he knew, there was no way, she had O'Driscoll blood running through her veins.

Hosea, not generally one for outbursts, stormed into the cabin. Dutch was still, looking over the plans. He looked up, when he heard the cabin door slam. Hosea's face looked like thunder.

"What the hell do you think your playing at, Dutch?" he yelled, angrily, "you know as well as I do that girl..."

Dutch glared at Hosea. He didn't give him a chance to finish what he was saying.

"Hosea, I don't have time for this right now. We have a train to rob. The girl...it'll have to wait."

Hosea, strode across to the table, "have you looked at her?" he growled quietly. His anger, just simmering below the surface.

Dutch stood up still glaring at Hosea, "of course I've god-damn looked at her," he yelled back, angrily. His face turning red.

"I'll deal with it, Hosea. Just not now!" Dutch grabbed the plans from the table, and walked out of the cabin.

"Gentlemen, get your horses ready, we have a train to rob!"

Hosea stood in the doorway, shaking his head, as Dutch, and the rest of the gang, headed off in the direction of rail tracks, and Leviticus Cornwall's train.

Jasmine opened her eyes, she couldn't see much, her vision was blurred, she blinked trying to focus. She could just about make out the sunlight, breaking through the cracks in the walls of the rickety old barn.

She tried, to swallow, it hurt, her throat was so dry. She had no saliva in her mouth, she couldn't even lick her lips, because of the gag. How long had she been here, with no food and no water. Maybe they'd just left her here to die. She always thought she'd die, in a hail of bullets, not tied to a post, in a barn.

Jasmine, moved her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists, just to try and keep the circulation going. It was then she realised the pain in her arms, being tied in the same position, she wasn't sure if it was cramp, but her arms hurt like hell.

Her face was throbbing, this was the hardest, Colm had hit her, in a long time. Jasmine closed her eyes, and remembered the first time, her uncle had beat her. The horse she had been saddling up, had turned around and bitten her. She was eight, and like any little girl, she had cried. Her uncle had grabbed her, told her she'd been bitten, because she was stupid. Blood O'Driscolls couldn't afford to be stupid, so this would remind her not to be.

This was ironic, if he thought her being bitten by a horse was stupid, imagine how stupid he'd think she was, being caught be Dutch Van Der Linde. She let her head, fall forward onto her chest. She didn't have the energy, or the fight left any more.

She heard footsteps, she didn't even open her eyes, or lift her head.

Javier Escuella, walked across the barn, to where the young woman was tied up. His first thought, was that she'd been left too long, but then, he saw her chest gently rise, and fall.

Crouching down, by her side he removed the gag from her mouth.

He pulled out his canteen, and opened it. He gently tilted her head back, and put a few drops of water in her mouth.

Jasmine opened her eyes, and winced as she swallowed, the lifesaving drops of water. Her throat was so dry, and painful. She licked her lips slowly, hoping to rehydrate them some how.

She looked at the man, then at the canteen, he was holding, with begging eyes. All fire, and fight in them had gone.

"Please.." she croaked, her dry throat, hardly able to allow the words to come out.

She felt his hands on her face, supporting it, as he allowed more water, to pour into her mouth.

"Easy does it, chica." he said gently.

Javier took out his knife, and cut the ropes, that secured her to the post.

She groaned slightly even with the limited movement, of her upper arms, the muscles, screamed with pain.

Javier, helped Jasmine to her feet. As he did, her legs nearly buckled underneath her, numbness, replaced by pain as they slowly came back to life. He quickly, wrapped his arm around her waist, to support her.

After a few moments, Javier guided her outside. To her surprise she saw a convoy of wagons.

Dutch sat on his horse, watching, as Javier, brought Jasmine out of the barn. He was surprised to see how bad the young woman looked. Barely able to walk. There was none of the fight, and spirit, she'd shown, when Arthur brought her in a few days before.

Javier, took her to one of the wagons. He looked at Dutch, and pulled out his knife. Cutting the rope from her wrist.

Jasmine, rubbed her wrists, they were cut and bruised, where the rope had been. She was surprised that she had been untied. She smiled at the Mexican, in silent thanks.

Javier lifted Jasmine, into the wagon. He handed her a blanket, and smiled.

"My name is Javier, you must be tired, chica. Try and get some rest."

Jasmine, half smiled, "Thank you," her voice croaked.

Javier, turned to look at Dutch, who was glaring at him.

"I don't think I told you to untie her!" he said, angrily.

"Don't worry Dutch, she won't run away, she can barely walk. In fact, she was barely alive, when I went to get her." Javier, turned and walked to his horse.

Dutch glared at the back of the Mexican as he walked away. "Lets get the hell off this mountain," he yelled, as he kicked his horse on.

As the convoy of wagons, made its way down the mountain, signs of the thaw started to become more obvious.

Deep snow, gave way to slush, then small tufts of grass started to poke through.

Arthur, sat with Hosea on the last wagon.

"So Hosea, tell me about the girl, who is she?" Arthur asked, it appeared that both Dutch and Hosea, had met her before.

Hosea sighed. "You should really ask Dutch," he said, "but I've a feeling, he won't want to talk about it, or face the obvious."

Arthur laughed, "stop talking in riddles, old man, just tell me."

Hosea smiled, "Ok, but its a little complicated, so try and keep up." He paused. Arthur, was sure it was for dramatic effect, but waited patiently, none the less.

"When Dutch met Annabelle, she was already with someone, and apparently in love. But you know how Dutch is with the ladies, he quite easily swept her off her feet. Problem was, the person who she was with, was Colm's brother, Conor."

Arthur, stared at Hosea, mouth wide open.

"Close your mouth, Arthur. You're catching flies." Hosea smirked, before continuing.

"Annabelle and Dutch became lovers, Conor was none the wiser. She was still sleeping with Conor, so he didn't suspect. Annabelle became pregnant. She was sure it was Conor's, but by now, she was more in love with Dutch, than with Conor."

"So she left Conor?" Arthur asked, impatient for Hosea to finish.

"Not exactly, Conor found out about, Annabelle and Dutch. There was a big Argument, Conor, threatened to kill Annabelle, if he couldn't have her, nobody would. Dutch shot Conor, and that was when the feud started."

"What happened next" Arthur asked, waiting for Hosea to continue.

"Annabelle, had already had the baby. A little girl, had the same piercing blue eyes as Annabelle. She called her Jasmine. But you know babies, they could look like anyone. Besides, everyone thought the baby was Conor's, including Dutch. When Annabelle ran off with Dutch, she took Jasmine with her. Colm hunted high and low for Annabelle, although probably more for the baby." Hosea sighed.

"When Jasmine was two, Colm found us. Well Annabelle, and Jasmine. Dutch and me, were out looking at a job. Colm came into the camp, shot Annabelle, and took Jasmine. Dutch was distraught, he never got over losing Annabelle, as you know."

Arthur nodded. He'd never met Annabelle, but knew the story.

"Shortly after, we found you, and the rest is history. Twenty years later, you bring Jasmine into camp. Dutch knew it was Jasmine, from her eyes, and the fact that she was the only woman, running with the O'Driscolls." Hosea smiled, "even at two, she was a feisty little thing."

"But...?" Arthur questioned.

"When she was two, she had mousy brown hair. Look at her now, Arthur. Jet black hair. I don't know any O'Driscoll with colouring like that, but I do know who has!"

Arthur stared at Hosea, "You don't think..."

Hosea nodded, "yes Arthur, I do. And I think Dutch does too."

"What about Jasmine?" Arthur asked.

Hosea shook his head, "I really don't think she has any idea. I don't even know if she remembers her mother."

Arthur, scraped his fingers through his hair, "jeez Hosea, What'll he do?"

Hosea, shook his head. "I've no idea, but when Colm, realises we've got Jasmine, all hell will break loose."

 


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Hosea and Arthur, arrived at Horseshoe Overlook the camp was virtually setup.

Luckily Charles had been on hand, to help them repair the wheel. It probably wouldn't have come off, if Arthur had been paying more attention, rather than listening to Hosea's tale of Annabelle.

As the drove up the track, Javier jumped on the back. He'd been lurking on the edge of the camp, probably keeping out of Dutch's way, after the little scene, just as they left Colter.

"Everything ok, Javier?" Hosea asked, in a slightly worried tone.

"Fine, slow up, I'll jump on." Javier replied, as he jumped on the back of the wagon.

"How's the girl?" Hosea asked

Javier shrugged, "She'll be ok, unless Dutch tries to kill her again."

"I'm sure that was just an accident," Hosea replied, thoughtfully."I'll go and check on her."

As the wagon, pulled to a stop, Javier jumped off.

"Who is she, Hosea?" he asked.

Hosea thought for a moment, before he looked at Javier. "She's Dutch's daughter."

Javier, stared at Hosea, in disbelief, before walking back up the track, to resume his guard duty.

Hosea and Arthur, climbed off the wagon. They saw Dutch, standing in the middle of camp. He seemed in high spirits.

"You weren't wrong Hosea, this place is perfect" he said, smiling.

"I hope so." He sighed. "Dutch, we need to talk...about Jasmine"

Dutch stared at Hosea. He blinked slowly, "we will Hosea, but right now, I have other, more important things to attend to."

Hosea watched on, as Dutch called everyone around, and gave the age old speech about bringing in money, and making sure the camp got its slice.

Once everyone had wandered off, to settle themselves in, Dutch turned to Hosea, who was still standing there, just staring at him.

"You know, Hosea. We've all made mistakes over the years, all of us."

"Was Jasmine, a mistake, Dutch. Was that why you almost let her die, or does she look too much like Annabelle?"

Dutch turned away. He threw the half smoked cigar, to the ground.

Grinding it into the dirt, with his heel.

"Yes Hosea, a big mistake. A mistake, that we weren't there when Colm killed Annabelle. A mistake, that I didn't go after him, and get Jasmine back. A mistake I didn't realise, she was my daughter, and not Conor's."

Dutch turned to face Hosea, there was no anger in his face. "Up in the mountains, was an accident. Do you really think, I would want to kill my own daughter?"

Hosea shook his head, "I wasn't sure, you'd accepted that she was, but now you have, what next?"

Dutch sighed, a little sorrow, showing in his face. "How could I not. But I'm not sure she'll accept the fact quite so easily."

Hosea looked around the camp."Where is she now?"

Dutch pointed towards a tent, "In there, sleeping."

"Aren't you afraid she'll run?.

"At the moment, she can barely walk. I'll try and talk to her, if she'll listen."

Hosea frowned. "You think Colm knows?"

Dutch rolled his eyes, "of course he does, every time he hits her, he probably relishes it. Its his sick idea of enjoyment. But as soon as he knows she's here, then he'll kill her, just to get back at me. What better revenge, not only to have killed Annabelle, but to kill my daughter too."

"Dutch, be careful how you tell her, because if she won't stay, there will be nothing you can do to protect her, and Colm, will surely kill her."

"You think I don't know that," Dutch sighed, "I'm not going to let that happen, somehow, I'll keep her safe."

Jasmine, slowly opened her eyes. She wasn't moving any more. The last thing she remembered, was being put on to the wagon, by the Mexican. She couldn't recall his name. But he had been kind. She couldn't recall anyone being kind to her in a very long time.

Jasmine tried to sit up, but her muscles screamed out, in protest. She allowed herself to collapse back down on the bed. She closed her eyes. No point trying to getup, or get away, from wherever she was. She was too sick. Maybe the Mexican would come back.

Jasmine, almost felt herself drifting off, when she felt something cold and wet, on her forehead.

Startled, she opened her eyes.

He, was the last person, she was expecting to see. She tried to push him away, but she was too weak. His hand, cupped the back of her head and tilted it upwards, and a cup was placed against her lips, so that she could drink, the water that her body craved.

Dutch tilted the cup, "just a little at a time," He said, gently. Her body had been without water, for too long, to allow her to drink a lot, all in one go. So he allowed her small amounts, a little at a time.

Once the cup was empty, he lowered her head, back on the pillow. He put the cup, on the nearby table, and refilled it with water.

"Why are you doing this? I'm an O'Driscoll, you hate us." She asked.

"I hate Colm, I don't hate you," he replied calmly, removing the damp cloth, from her forehead, and replacing it with another."

Jasmine, looked at Dutch, a confused look on her face. She looked at her wrists, they were bandaged. So, she hadn't dreamt, that she had been tied up. Everything was so confused.

"Who fixed my wrists?" she asked, frowning.

"One of the ladies," Dutch smiled, "They're pretty good, at that sort of thing."

"Ladies?" Jasmine, was even more confused. Wasn't this supposed to be a rival gang. What sort of gang kept ladies, in tow.

Dutch held Jasmine's head, and gave her some more water. "I...We're not like Colm, Jasmine. We're more of a family. We look out for each other."

Dutch looked at the bruise, on Jasmine's face.

"When did he start beating you, Jasmine?" He asked, keeping his anger in check.

Jasmine looked Dutch in the eye, he held her gaze, until she turned her head, away.

"I know it was him," He said, gently, "when was it? When you're hair changed colour? How old were you? Five? Six?"

Jasmine slowly turned her head, and look at Dutch.

"Eight, but how did you know?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Jasmine, there are a lot of things I know about you. Things, about your past, that you don't know. But you need to get your strength back. You need to rest." Dutch replied, a haunted look on his face. "We'll talk more soon," Dutch stood up and walked to the door of the tent.

"Wait!" Jasmine, called out.

Dutch turned around, and looked at Jasmine.

"I...well..thank you." She stuttered.

Dutch smiled at Jasmine, "I'll get someone to bring you some food," he said, as he walked out the tent.

Arthur sat on a log, by the campfire. Watching Javier, tune his guitar. He'd been waiting for the right moment, to say something. He hadn't really wanted to talk to Javier, about Jasmine, when there were loads of people about. So he had waited, and waited. Now there were only the two of them, left by the fire.

"Ya know Javier, it wasn't Dutch's fault, what happened to Jasmine." Arthur, just blurted it out.

Javier, stopped plucking the strings on his guitar, and looked over at Arthur,

"No?" He said, a question hanging in the air.

"No," Arthur stated, "It was mine." He switched his gaze from Javier, to the fire.

Arthur sighed, "Hosea wanted to give her some water, that night, But I said no. Then the next day, we robbed the train. Then we were all packing up."

Javier, leant his guitar against the log, and stared at Arthur. "Seriously, Arthur. You of all people, should have known better."

Dutch, who had been listening, unnoticed. Stepped into the firelight.

"No, Javier. I should have known better. She was in my camp, I should have made sure, she was being looked after."

Javier stared at Dutch, "I can't believe, you did that to your own daughter!"

"How..." Dutch asked, horrified, that there were others that knew, besides himself and Hosea.

"Hosea told us," Arthur said, quickly, "we're the only two that know, besides you and Hosea."

Dutch sat down on the log, "lets keep it that way," he whispered, slightly annoyed. "Because not even she knows, yet."

Javier, stared at Dutch.

"Javier, its complicated." Dutch said, somewhat irked by the questioning look, on Javier's face.

"So for now, I only want, you two, and myself and Hosea to have any dealings with her. Arthur, can you take her some food. I have no idea, when she last ate anything."

"Me!" Arthur exclaimed, "I was the one that tied her up, and refused her water. I'm the last person she's gonna want to see."

Dutch sighed. "Arthur, son...please, just.."

"Ok, ok, I'll do it." Arthur replied, getting up.

Javier smirked, silently.

"And Javier, make sure you help too, I think she probably trusts you, more than anyone." Dutch said, glancing at the Mexican.

Javier stopped smirking, and nodded. "Of course, Dutch. Anything I can do to help." He said.

Arthur scraped the last of the stew, into a bowl. He walked over, to Jasmine's tent, and stood staring at the door flap, hoping that she would be sleeping, so that he could beat a hasty retreat.

For Arthur, he was out of luck. As he entered the tent, she opened her eyes and looked across.

Arthur took a deep breath. "I brought you some food," he said, trying to avoid eye contact.

Jasmine blinked, not quite believing what she was seeing. She tried to sit up, but with little strength, she gave up.

Arthur, put the stew on the table. "Here, let me help." he slid one hand under her back, and with the other hand, on her shoulder. He pulled her into a sitting position. For an awkward moment, they looked each other in the eye, saying nothing.

Arthur, quickly removed his hands, and walked over to the table, to grab the stew. He smiled, awkwardly, and passed the bowl to Jasmine.

As she took the bowl, she looked at Arthur, and eyed the bowl of stew, suspiciously.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "It's quite safe, I ain't poisoned it, or nothin'."

He sat down, on the chair, that was next to the bed. "Look, sorry, for everything, back at Colter." he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

Jasmine took a mouthful of stew, slowly at first, then she started to eat more quickly. Realising how hungry she was, when the first spoonful, hit her stomach.

Arthur glanced up at Jasmine, slightly relieved, that she was more interested in the food, than his half arsed apology.

Once Jasmine, had finished the stew, she passed the bowl to Arthur. As he took the bowl, she held tightly onto it, forcing him to look at her, in surprise.

"Arthur Morgan, will you tell me, what the hell is going on." she asked, making eye contact with him.

Arthur shrugged. "Dunno what your talkin' 'bout." He mumbled, looking away.

Jasmine released her grip on the metal bowl. "You really are a shit liar." she scoffed.

Arthur picked up the mug of water, and handed it to her. "You better drink this, keep your fluids up." he said, then headed towards the door.

"One minute, you're trying to kill me, next minute, your feedin' me. You are one crazy son of a bitch" she said, shaking her head.

Arthur turned, and looked at her, half a smile on his face. "You ain't wrong there." He said, as he left the tent.

Jasmine, laid back down, what the hell was going on, she had to find out one way or another, and get the hell out of here, as soon as she could.

She closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep. The empty cup, slipped out of her hand, and dropped to the floor.

 


	4. Chapter 4

As the sun set, the light filtered through the fabric of the tent, lighting the inside, with an amber glow.

Jasmine, opened her eyes. Somehow, she had slept all day. She lay there, thinking about the events of the previous day. Leaving the mountain, waking up here, Dutch, Arthur. It was all like some freakish dream.

She propped herself up in bed, thankful that her strength was beginning to come back.

Jasmine felt her throbbing cheek. Wincing, as she touched it. That wasn't a dream, Colm's fist, had hit her hard. She wondered, if anything was broken, it wouldn't be the first time.

She thought about, what Dutch had said. Why would he start hitting her, just because her hair changed colour. It had to be coincidence, didn't it?

Jasmine swung her legs over the edge of the bed. As she attempted to stand, her legs buckled, and she fell back down on the bed.

 

"Mierda, be careful, chica. You are still weak." Javier, exclaimed from the doorway.

Jasmine, looked up. Feeling a little bit like a child, who had been found with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I can't stay here, surely you understand, Javier." she said, suddenly remembering the name, of the Mexican.

Javier smiled, "you don't have a lot of choice, right now, chica," he said, as he handed her a bowl of food. "Besides, I think Dutch, may have something to say about that."

Jasmine took the bowl, and started to eat. After a couple of mouthfuls, she stopped, and looked at him.

"What's going on, Javier. Dutch and Arthur are acting weird. If someone from here, ended up in my uncles camp, they would be dead, or tortured."

Javier sat down on the bed, next to Jasmine. He gently touched her bruised face, causing her to wince.

"I'm sorry chica, but if this is how your uncle treats you, then you're better off here." He sighed, "But this isn't the first time, is it?"

Jasmine closed her eyes, bit her lip, and sighed. "It's nothing, I just...well sometimes I make him angry."

Javier, got up, and walked towards the door, "bastardo malvado!" he growled angrily, under his breath, as he left the tent.

Jasmine, didn't speak Spanish. But she had a good idea, what it meant. She was beginning to think, that maybe, Javier was right.

 

Colm O'Driscoll, rode into six point cabin. He was well and truly pissed off.

Fucking Dutch Van Der Linde, turning over his camp, and stealing his score!

"Jasmine!" he yelled, angrily. "Jasmine, where the fuck are you!"

The cabin door opened, and a man stood in the doorway.

"She ain't here boss, she never turned up." he said shrugging.

Colm, jumped of his horse, and stormed towards the cabin door, pushing the man roughly out of the way, so he could see for himself.

The man, scuttled away, not wanting to be on the sharp end of Colm O'Driscolls fist, boot or worse still his gun.

"Where the fuck is that stupid little bitch, she's gonna get such a beating when I find her." he growled, to who ever was listening.

He walked to the cluster of tents and campfires, where the rest of his men were gathered.

"You stay here, if she turns up, send her up to the hanging dog ranch. We're making that our new headquarters" He grinned menacingly, "previous occupants, decided to leave...permanently."

He walked to his horse, and mounted.

As he galloped, out of sight, The horse's scream could be heard, as his spurs, pierced it's side.

There was no limit, to his brutality, to either man, or beast.

 

Dutch looked out from the edge of the overlook. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, inspiration perhaps. He glanced, over his shoulder towards Jasmine's tent. He would need more than inspiration. How was he supposed to explain to her, everything that had happened, twenty years ago. How twenty years of her life, had been spent with a vindictive bastard, who wanted nothing but to hurt her, once he knew whose blood she had, running in her veins.

Dutch looked out towards the mountains. He would find that bastard, and kill him. If it was the last thing he did. How had he never realised, that Jasmine, might have been his. How different, her life could have been, if he'd found her, after Annabelle had been killed.

"Dutch?" Dutch turned round, to see Javier, standing behind him.

"She was going to leave," Javier, spoke calmly.

Dutch stared at Javier, then Stared at the tent.

Javier, continued. "She's still here, she's stronger, but still too weak to walk. I think you need to talk to her...soon...and get someone to check her face"

"Her face? What's wrong with her face?" Dutch looked confused.

"Where he hit her, I think it may be more than bruised, maybe broken." Javier sighed.

Dutch scraped his fingers through his hair. "Thank you, Javier. I'll...I'll speak with her."

Dutch slowly walked towards the tent. He might as well get this over with.

Dutch opened the door flap, to Jasmine's tent. He paused, before going in. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed, with her legs dangling, staring at them.

"You'll soon get your strength back," he said.

Jasmine's head snapped up, to look at him. She sighed. Her deep blue eyes, staring at him.

Dutch shook his head, "God-damn it, Jasmine..."

"Dutch Van Der Linde, you better fucking tell me, what the hell is going on?" she demanded.

Dutch sighed, where the hell did he start.

"Do you remember your mother, Jasmine?" he asked.

"What the hell has that go to do with anything?" She snapped.

Dutch just stood and looked at her, waiting for an answer.

Jasmine sighed. "Not really, just sometimes...just glimpses of memories. Not a face or anything, just a feeling."

Dutch half smiled, "you were very young." He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a creased photograph, and passed it to Jasmine.

Jasmine, looked at the photograph, and traced her finger, over the old picture.

She looked at Dutch, and passed the picture back to him, "Why have you got a photograph of my mother?" she asked, biting her bottom lip, and looking at the floor.

Dutch smiled, "your mother used to do that, when she was nervous, or worried." Dutch looked at the photograph, then looked at Jasmine, "I loved her very much."

Jasmine gripped the edge of the bed, she had a feeling that her world was about to be turned upside down.

"What happened to my mother," her blue eyes, stared at Dutch.

Dutch, clenched his fists, "Colm O'Driscoll, murdered your mother, and took you."

Jasmine glared at Dutch, "you're lying, why would he do that?"

Dutch walked over to the bed, and rested his hands on Jasmine's shoulders.

"Because, Annabelle, your mother, and I were lovers. When your father found out, he tried to kill

her, so I killed him. Your mother, ran away with me, you were just a baby."

Jasmine stared at Dutch, she said nothing, just stared.

"When you were two, Colm found us. I was away, on a job with Hosea. He killed Annabelle, and grabbed you. He..I thought you were Conor's child. If I'd known, what I know now..."

Jasmine started to shake her head, "No...no," she lifted her hands to cover he ears, not wanting to hear any more.

Dutch pulled her hands away from her ears. "Conor was blonde, just like Colm. When you're hair changed colour. He knew, that you weren't Conor's." Dutch paused, allowing Jasmine to take in what he was saying.

"Every time he saw you, from that point, he knew. Seeing you fuelled his anger against me. But he wouldn't kill you, because, first, he wanted me to know, you were my daughter."

"No," she screamed, trying to pull her hands away, but Dutch held her hands tightly.

"Jasmine, I swear that if I'd known, I would have come after you. I knew as soon as Arthur brought you in. Your mothers blue eyes, and my black hair." Dutch closed his eyes for a second, to try and compose himself "I'm sorry Jasmine, sorry you had to put up with Colm's abuse, all these years."

Dutch let go of Jasmines hands. As he did, all the colour drained from her face, and she threw up on the floor.

Dutch pulled a handkerchief, from his pocket and handed it to Jasmine. She wiped her mouth, and stared at him. Gripping the handkerchief in her hand.

"I'm sorry Jasmine, I know this is a shock. I know this is probably the last place you want to be. But you need to know. If you try and leave here, and Colm finds you. He will, kill you."

Dutch reached into his pocket, and pulled out a silver hip flask. Taking the stopper out, he took a drink, and then passed it to Jasmine.

Jasmine, put the flask to her lips, and took a large drink. She felt the alcohol burn her throat. But it took away the taste of the vomit.

She passed the flask back to Dutch.

Jasmine looked at the floor, "He killed my mother!" She said quietly, it wasn't a question, but a statement.

Jasmine, looked up, and stared at Dutch, tears beginning to fill her eyes, "He stole my childhood! My family! Because he hates you!"

She didn't know who to hate more, Colm O'Driscoll, or Dutch Van Der Linde. She buried he face in her hands. As she did she was reminded of the pain in her face. Every throb of pain, reminded her of how much Colm O'Driscoll hated her. Or how much he hated Dutch Van Der Linde, and she was stuck in the middle.

Dutch put his hand on Jasmines shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I never meant for this to happen. I swear though, I will keep you safe, until I can put an end to him."

Jasmine, didn't react. She didn't answer, and she didn't push him away.

He released his grip, and walked out of the tent, to allow her to process, what she had just been told.

 

Arthur watched as Dutch walked out of Jasmines tent. He'd guessed that she'd been told. He hadn't heard any screams, and Dutch didn't have a black eye. But the look on Dutch's face, spoke volumes.

"Dutch?" Arthur, called out.

Dutch turned around, "Not now, son." He said, an anguished look, on his face.

"Do you want me to..." he pointed to Jasmines tent.

Dutch sighed, "maybe in a while" he said quietly. He went into his tent, and closed the flap, behind him.

 

Arthur stood there, glancing between both tents. He hated seeing Dutch like this. Of course he knew, Dutch wasn't perfect. But finding out, that he had a daughter, who had been raised, by his most hated enemy. Not only that, but that she had also been, badly treated, only because he was her father. That must have been like a kick in the gut. Worse still, that she probably blamed him, for everything that life had thrown at her.

Arthur wasn't sure, what he could say to Jasmine. Only perhaps, to try and persuade her to give Dutch a break.

Arthur headed towards the medicine wagon. He grabbed some supplies for Jasmine's face. Some ointment, to help take the swelling down. Some warm water, and cloth's to bathe it. He wasn't as good as the women, but he could try and talk to her, about the whole situation, at the same time.

He headed back over, to Jasmine's tent.

Jasmine still sat on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands, when Arthur, entered the tent.

She looked up, as soon as he entered.

Arthur was surprised to see her tear stained face. After all, this was the infamous, Jasmine O'Driscoll. Except, she wasn't an O'Driscoll, she never had been. The beatings that everyone thought were to toughen up a girl, so that she would be tough enough, to run with the O'Driscoll boys. Were actually, some sort of revenge beatings, on a little girl. A little girl, who had found herself in the middle of a blood feud.

Looking at Jasmine now, Arthur didn't see a twenty two year old woman. He saw the little girl, whose world, had suddenly come crashing down.

Arthur walked over to the bed, and sat next to Jasmine.

"Here," he said, "let me see your face."

He swept her hair, out the way with his hand, and started to bathe her cheek. She winced slightly.

"Sorry," he said, trying to be a little more gentle.

"I've had worse," she said quietly, her voice quivering.

Arthur, put some ointment on Jasmine's cheek bone. "Ya know, Dutch didn't mean for this to happen."

Jasmine sighed, "I might have known, you'd defend him. If he hadn't killed my Fa...Colm's brother, then, well it might have been different."

"Different? How?" Arthur, put the ointment down, and looked at Jasmine. "Conor would have still killed your mother. He wasn't a great deal different to Colm, you think he would have treated you any different, when he found out he weren't your father?"

Jasmine, picked up the nearest thing she could find, which happened to be the bowl of water, that Arthur had brought in. She threw it across the tent, and it hit one of the supporting uprights, making a loud crash.

Jasmine screamed, "I fucking hate them, fucking Colm, fucking Dutch. I won't be a fucking pawn in their stupid feud."

She burst into tears, she was upset, but not just that, she was angry, and frustrated.

Arthur wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight. Letting her cry it out.

Jasmine looked at him, "Arthur, what am I gonna do?" She wailed.

Arthur held Jasmine, and stroked her hair. "You're gonna survive." he said gently, holding her close.

"Dutch, well he ain't a bad man. He loved your mama, I know that. No one can change what's happened in the past. As bad as it was. Hell, I know what its like to be beat, my daddy used to beat on me summit fierce. Dutch, well, he's been like a father to me. You just gotta move on. Leave the past behind. It may be hard to believe right now, but Dutch, well he really cares about you."

Jasmine pulled away from Arthur, "You think I should stay, don't you." She said, as she wiped away the remaining tears.

Arthur pushed a stray hair out of her face, and tucked it behind her ear. "It ain't the worse place in the world to be, and at least you'll be safe."

He gently turned her face, towards his, and placed his lips gently on hers. Forgetting, for a moment, that she was Dutch's daughter. She responded, kissing him back. The subtle taste of tobacco and whisky, on his lips, became stronger, as his kiss, became more hungry. His tongue, gliding, and darting across hers.

Jasmine slowly pulled away, "Safe? Mr Morgan," she half smiled.

Arthur gently stroked her lips, with his thumb, and smiled.

He got up from the bed, and headed for the door. Licking his lips, in an attempt to savour the sweet taste of Jasmine's lips, glancing back, one last time. Before heading out into the night.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The hot sun, beat down on the camp, in horseshoe overlook. It seemed that this country, went from one extreme to the other. Either plummeting temperatures, and blizzards, or stifling heat.

Hosea, removed his hat, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He should be used to this heat by now. This was virtually his home turf. He'd nearly settled here once.

He removed the package, from the saddle bag of his horse, and walked across to Dutch's tent.

The tent flap had been closed, since yesterday evening, and was still closed, first thing this morning, when Hosea, had headed out. It was a sure sign, that Dutch didn't want to be disturbed. But now it was open, and Dutch, was sitting inside the tent, with a book in his hand.

"Is it any good?" Hosea asked, poking his head in the tent.

Dutch sighed, glancing up, "I really couldn't say, I can't seem to concentrate, I'm reading the words, but nothing is sinking in."

Dutch looked at the package, under Hosea's arm. "What's in the package, anything good?"

Hosea smiled, "hopefully a peace offering. I'm sure Jasmine, would appreciate a change of clothes."

Dutch scoffed, "unless they were from me."

Hosea, sat down opposite Dutch, "she'll come round, it might just take a while."

"Ya know Hosea, I couldn't really blame her, if she didn't. She blames me, for all of this." He sighed, his face, veiled in sadness.

Hosea, put a comforting hand on his friends shoulder, "You didn't make Colm kill her mother, or kidnap her, or make him beat her. That's down to him. You just need to give her time."

Dutch looked up at Hosea, "Maybe, but for now, I think I should give her some space. I'll be here when...if she wants to talk."

Hosea nodded, and walked towards Jasmine's tent.

Jasmine stood, supporting herself at the edge of the bed. At least she could stand now. She wasn't sure about walking though.

She glanced up, as the tent flat opened.

"Your on your feet, that's good," Hosea said, smiling, "how are you feeling."

Jasmine recognised the old man, from the barn, in the mountains.

"Like I've be hit by a herd of buffalo." she sighed.

"Well, you'll probably feel better with a change of clothes, "he said, as he passed her the package, "Call it a peace offering."

Jasmine smiled, "Thank you, is there anywhere round here I could get a wash?"

Hosea laughed, "Here, lean on me and I'll walk you to the wash tub."

Jasmine, leaned on Hosea, as she took her first tentative steps.

She hadn't been kidding when she had said, she felt like shed been his by buffalo. Thankfully the wash tub, was just around the back of her tent.

As they approached the tub, an older woman walked towards them.

"Ahh, Miss Grimshaw, would you mind assisting Jasmine. She's been laid up for a few days, and she needs a wash. There's some clean clothes in her tent."

Susan Grimshaw, looked at the girl before her. "Miss?" She asked.

Jasmine thought for a moment. She knew she wasn't an O'Driscoll now, but she wasn't quite prepared to call herself Van Der Linde, not just yet. "Just call me Jasmine," she replied. She glanced over at Hosea, and smiled.

Hosea nodded, "I'll leave you ladies to it."

Susan Grimshaw, eyed Jasmine up and down, "You're the girl that Mr Morgan brought in, up in Colter, ain't ya?" she said, sourly.

Jasmine sighed, "Yes I am, is that a problem?" she snapped.

Susan Grimshaw scowled, "If Dutch is happy, letting an O'Driscoll wander around camp on her own, well I guess that's up to him."

Jasmine rolled her eyes, it was obvious that most of the camp where unaware, who she was. But then, she had only just found out.

Jasmine unbuttoned her shirt, and slipped it off her shoulders, and started to wash.

Susan stared at the young woman's back, covered in scars. Her tone softened slightly.

"Seems like you've been in the wars, miss...Jasmine. I'll go and fetch you're clean clothes." She said, as she headed towards Jasmine's tent.

Jasmine glanced over her shoulder, and looked at her back. She'd never really thought about the scars. Scars left behind by the beatings she'd had, from Colm. She thought about them now though, and tears came into her eyes. She blinked them back. "Fucking idiot," she said, under her breath, as she wiped her face with the damp cloth.

Susan Grimshaw, headed for Jasmines tent. As she did, she glanced across, at Dutch's tent. Dutch was still reading, or attempting to. She picked up the package, from Jasmine's tent, then decided to take a detour, and headed over, to where he was sitting.

"Dutch?" she said, "do you have a moment?"

Dutch looked up from his book, and smiled. "For you, Susan. Of Course."

"The O'Driscoll girl, Jasmine, she calls herself. The one that Mr Morgan brought in. What do you know about her?" she asked.

The smile dropped from Dutch's face. "Is there a problem?"

"Well apart from the fact that she's been beat, real bad in the past. Is it wise to have an O'Driscoll wandering around the camp, where ever they please?" she said, disapprovingly.

Dutch closed his eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. Everyone would find out sooner or later.

"She's not an O'Driscoll, Susan. She's... my daughter." he said slowly.

Susan Grimshaw, stared at Dutch, for a few moments, before replying.

"Then you better come with me, because...well, wherever she was before here, she wasn't treated real good."

Dutch followed Susan, behind Jasmine's tent, to the wash area.

Jasmine didn't hear them walk up behind her.

Dutch took one look at her back, and shook his head. His face started change colour, as anger welled up inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Dutch, gently touched Jasmine, on the shoulder. She flinched, and quickly turned around.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his anger turning to sympathy.

Jasmine glared at him, "Don't...just don't look at me like that, I don't need your pity!"

Dutch sighed, "Jasmine, you're my daughter. Whether you like it or not. I've just seen what that vicious bastard has done to you, how do you expect me to feel?"

Jasmine, felt tears welling up in her eyes again. Kindness wasn't what she had been used to.

She wanted to hate Dutch, but she couldn't. She closed her eyes, She lowered her head, as the tears escaped from her eyes, and trickled down her cheeks.

"Please don't," she pleaded, her voice quivering.

Dutch pulled out a red silk handkerchief from his breast pocket. He gently tilted her head up, and wiped her tears away.

"Jasmine. Your my daughter, and I love you. I don't expect you to forgive me, for what you've gone through. If there was anyway I could change it, I would." He said, quietly.

Jasmine, opened her eyes, and looked at Dutch.

"You can't change what's happened, nobody can."

Dutch, dropped his hand, "No they can't, but I can be a father to you now. I know it won't be easy...for either of us."

Jasmine's expression changed, from one of sadness, to steely determination.

"If you want to be a father to me, then you'll help me kill that bastard. Because I swear, I'll do it, either with or without your help."

Dutch nodded, "Then we already have one thing in common. We will find him, and we will kill him."

Jasmine smiled, sardonically. "You better let the rest of your camp know, who I am then.

Dutch laughed, and took the parcel from Susan Grimshaw, who had witnessed, everything.

"I think first of all, Jasmine. You better get dressed." Dutch said, as he turned and walked back to his tent.

Jasmine finished washing up, and quickly washed her long black hair. She put on the new clothes. Hosea, had chosen well. The clothes were a perfect fit, and similar, in style to the dirty ones.

She picked, the dirty clothes up, off of the ground.

Susan Grimshaw, glanced across at Jasmine.

"Here," she said, "I'll get those washed for you"

Jasmine looked surprised. She was used to washing her own clothes, and Colm's, otherwise, they didn't get cleaned. The other boys, never used to bother. She hesitantly passed the clothes to Susan.

She put them in a large basket, filled with other dirty clothes.

"So, how many women are there here." Jasmine asked, frowning slightly.

Susan Grimshaw scoffed. "Not enough, for the amount of mess the men around here make. Now, do you need a hand walking back?"

Jasmine smiled "I could probably use a shoulder to lean on."

Much to Jasmine's surprise, Susan turned around, and yelled at the top of her voice. "Miss Tilly!"

From behind the back of a wagon, Jasmine saw a pretty black woman, dressed in a yellow dress, come running over.

"Yes, Miss Grimshaw." she said, slightly out of breath.

"Tilly, please help Miss...Jasmine, over to the table. Then get her something to eat, and some coffee. If the boys haven't drunk it all."

Susan Grimshaw, turned to Jasmine, "Don't worry dear, you'll soon settle in." She picked up the basket of laundry, and headed across camp.

Jasmine had an idea, that she wasn't going to wash all those clothes herself.

Tilly, smiled at Jasmine, "Here, lean on me. She glanced at her face. That's a nasty bruise, miss. I'll see if I can find something to put on it."

Jasmine smiled, "Arthur put something on it last night, but I'm not sure it made any difference."

"Hmmph! Arthur!" she exclaimed, "He probably put horse liniment on it, knowing him."

Jasmine, raised her eyebrows, "I think he was only trying to help."

Tilly laughed, "That's Arthur, he has a good heart, but he doesn't always get it right."

Once they reached the main table, Jasmine, sat down. Her legs were aching, from standing and walking, So she was glad to be able to sit down.

Tilly smiled at Jasmine, "Just rest up, I'll get you some food. Then I'll take a look at your cheek. Would you like me to do something with your hair," she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Jasmine, felt her hair, wondering what was wrong with it.

Tilly chuckled, "Don't worry, leave it to me."

Jasmine looked at Tilly as she headed towards the stew pot. She looks so happy, she thought. Jasmine glanced around the camp, and saw several other women, chattering and laughing.

She was also surprised, to see a little boy, running around playing. These people, this gang. They were so different, to what she had known. Maybe Arthur was right, maybe this wasn't such a bad place to be.

She snapped out of her daydream, as Tilly put a bowl of food before her, and a mug of coffee.

"Lets take a look," Tilly said, as she gently touched, Jasmines cheek, and started to apply some ointment. Tilly's touch was delicate, unlike Arthur's, from the previous night.

She remembered his parting kiss, and glanced around, but there was no sign of him. No sign of Javier, either.

"Where's everyone, today?" Jasmine asked.

Tilly smiled, "They've gone to get Sean, he was captured, by bounty hunters. Now, let me take a look at your hair."

Jasmine, was even more confused. If any of Colm's boys got captured, that was it. He figured it was their own fault, he wouldn't bother with a rescue party.

Jasmine ate her food, and drank her coffee, whilst Tilly brushed her hair, and started fiddling with it, from behind.

"What are you doing?" Jasmine asked, curiously.

"You'll see, I'll be finished in a minute." she replied, smiling.

Tilly grabbed a mirror, and handed it to Jasmine.

The fist thing Jasmine noticed, was the bruise on her face. It was worse than she thought. Then she noticed, her hair. Tilly had put it in a loose single plait. Jasmine smiled at Tilly.

"Thank you, Tilly. I've only ever worn it messy, it looks nice."

Tilly smiled, "If you want me to do it again, just ask. You have lovely hair, real pretty."

Jasmine, smiled. For the first time in ages, she felt safe.

 


End file.
